


imagine how the world could be, so very fine

by livtontea



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Bad Poetry, Because I am not good at it, F/M, Gen, M/M, No Incest, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poetry, Sad, i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2020-09-06 23:09:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20299465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livtontea/pseuds/livtontea
Summary: my tua poemstitle from "happy together" by the turtles





	1. Ready

**Author's Note:**

> 1- Five  
2 - Klaus (and Dave)  
3 - Diego (and Eudora)  
4 - Ben  
5 - Luther  
6 - Klaus  
7 - God  
8 - Five  
9 - Five  
11 - Dolores  
13 - Klaus  
14 - Ben

Let me do this,  
I say one day at the breakfast table  
No, he answers

But I want to, I say  
He shakes his head and snaps, You're not ready.  
You're wrong.  
Never, he says.

I slam my fists onto the table.  
Yes you are. I'm ready.  
He doesn't bother giving me a response.

Fine.  
He can sit there, reading his newspaper.  
He can tell me no as much as he wants.  
He can tell me I'm not ready.  
I don't care.  
I'm going to do it anyway.

I turn and run.  
He calls out to me,  
Telling me to sit back down.  
I ignore him.  
If he won't listen  
Why should I?

I run through the doorway  
Through blue and grey  
I run until I can't anymore.  
And I realize  
The setting has changed  
Where was once yellow and green  
Is now black and orange.  
I am in a barren wasteland

I muffle a gasp  
This wasn't supposed to happen  
This isn't what I wanted  
I was ready

I turn and run back, but am met with ruins  
He's gone  
They're gone  
It's gone.  
All gone

Why did this happen?  
I was ready

I try to run through blue again  
And again  
And again

Days pass  
The blue is solid  
And I can't run through walls  
I can only sit and try not to cry  
Water is rare

I was ready

Weeks  
Months  
Years

I meet someone  
She's like me, but not.  
She can't run  
But she is here too  
I ask her to come with me  
She does

Two of us now  
But still no way out

I was ready.  
I know I was.

Years  
Decades

My hair grows long and white  
And my skin wrinkles and folds  
My clothing is worn  
And my mind is tired  
I'm tired

I meet a woman  
(I'm found by her)  
She calls herself the Handler,  
And offers me an out  
She offers me a job, and I accept  
Anything is better than staying here  
Alone

I do not expect my job to involve so much death  
Death is not new to me  
I've killed many people  
But this feels different  
These people are innocent  
Innocent people with families and friends  
I miss my family  
I need to get back

Later  
Much later  
I figure it out  
I know now  
All that's left is to find the right time

When I disappear from the past in blue  
I do not expect this  
Why am I small again?  
What happened to my worn body,  
Covered with scars?  
Where is my time-bleached hair?

No matter  
I may have lost all that  
But I've gained back my home  
Even though it's all different

I tell them  
What has happened  
I leave out the parts that matter most  
I can't hurt them  
I've been doing everything on my own for so long  
What difference does a week make?

I compliment my brothers dress  
Thank you, he says, in German.  
I don't know why.

My sister leaves her windows unlocked.  
I tell her she shouldn't  
No matter how high  
No one is safe with unlocked windows

I run  
Run through the city  
Looking for a clue  
How to stop it  
How to save them  
How to save everything

I act like I know how  
But I don't.

(I can finally admit.  
I wasn't ready.

But it's too late)

She screams  
And slashes  
And explodes

Why did my brother do that?  
Why treat his family like he has?  
Idiot.

I don't know if I am much better.

Gunshots  
Bullets  
Tentacles  
Ghosts  
Screaming  
Music  
Violin  
Wide eyes  
Blue  
Green  
Lights  
Colors  
Too loud  
It's too loud

A gunshot too close for comfort  
Panic  
Energy sound light

I shout  
My sister collapses  
And so does the moon

No, I think.  
Nonono

We have to go back.

I grab onto my siblings' hands  
The blue condenses  
And I pull

Back back back  
Too far  
But this time  
I'm ready

Finally


	2. All It Takes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus and Dave and Dave and Klaus.

All it takes is a kiss

A press of his lips against yours

A brief but firm contact 

All it takes is a kiss

For you to start falling

All it takes is a gesture

An outstretched hand

With fingers waiting for you to slip yours between them

All it takes is a gesture

For you to fall deeper into him

All it takes are three words

A breathy exhale

“I love you.”

All it takes are three words

For you to say them back

All it takes is a war

A raging war filled with gunfire and death

With bullet wounds and blood

All it takes is a war

For him to be ripped away from you

All it takes is the click of latches

A black briefcase opening

A bright flash of blue light

All it takes is the click of latches

For you to come right back to where you started

All it takes is falling in love

Wondrous love filled with hope and joy

And pain and tears

All it takes is falling in love

For you to be left bare and exposed,

Heartbroken,

On the street

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She had blue skin.  
And so did he.  
He kept it hid  
And so did she.  
They searched for blue  
Their whole life through,  
Then passed right by—  
And never knew.
> 
> -Shel Silverstein, "Masks"


	3. Rope Around My Neck, Hand Around My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego has always had a rope.

You have always been

At the end of your rope

The thick and sturdy twine

Wrapped around your neck

Choking you slowly.

You do not need to breathe

So that is not why you fear the rope

You fear it

Because it pulls you farther and farther away from reality

Leading you by the neck

Into blinding anger,

Fury.

Since you were small

And weak,

A child,

The rope has been pulling

You have always been at the end

And you have always been angry

Full of molten hate

And resentment.

But sometimes

She places her firm but gentle hand

On the knot

Where the rope meets your skin

She smiles

And for a moment

For just a moment

You feel the tightness of the rope fade.

You kiss her

And she kisses you back

Her hands painting murals onto your skin

Her fingers writing scriptures across your back.

"Eudora," you breathe

And she smiles,

Kissing you once more

But that time has long since passed

Tender touches and loving kisses

Left behind

To stay trapped in your past forever.

Now you play a game

You talk to her

Run into her

Mess with her work

And she rolls her eyes,

Annoyed.

You smirk

And she pushes you away

And for a brief second as her hands brush your skin

The rope loosens

Only to come back tighter as she locks handcuffs

Around your wrists.

You wish

That the rope wasn't there

But because of the monsters

Horrid creatures living inside your head

In your memories and in your childhood

The rope stays,

Tight as ever.

She says she's going to save him

Your brother.

But when you arrive

She's on the floor

Red blood pooling around her body

You fall

To your knees,

Hands reaching out to touch her face,

Cold and dead.

You cry

Whispering to her

That you should have been there

That you have to go

She's left alone

In the hotel bedroom with a bullet wound in her chest

And the rope around your neck

Squeezes tighter

And pulls.


	4. Beneath the Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben's got a hole in his chest.

there's a boy with a hole  
inside his chest  
or his stomach  
nobody has ever dared come close enough to find out  
and he himself  
will never tell  
  
there's a boy with a hole  
which leads to a place filled with monsters  
and lacking in men  
  
if he pulls  
the hole gapes wider and wider  
until tentacles emerge into the world  
seemingly of his own creation  
  
(but oh  
he's not the source of the horrors within  
the boy is just a conductor)  
  
the boy draws upon the tendrils  
of unspeakable monstrosities  
over  
and over  
and over again  
  
he has spent his whole life pulling  
in a game of tug-of-war  
he pulls on the tentacles,  
and they pull back  
  
in the end,  
the creatures won


	5. Moon Men and Space Boys Aren't The Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luther used to be handsome.

You were a boy  
Bold and beautiful  
All sharp strokes and broad shoulders  
Your muscles were visible under your smooth skin

You were a star  
Big, strong, etheral  
"Handsome," is what they called you  
The handsome leader  
Number One

You were the strongest  
And the one with the most appeal  
To teenagers amongst  
Rows and rows of cheering fans

You grew into a man  
Made up of quick brush strokes and sharp jawlines  
Eyes blue and bright  
Lips pink and full

(So many people have swooned over you  
Boy and girls alike  
You have swooned over nobody  
Not once)

But then  
You went on a mission for your father  
Years after everyone else had gone  
And you became the only one left

Your beauty  
Was ripped away from you  
Like flower petals are ripped  
Away from the center of a rose

A game of he-loves-me,  
He-loves-me-not  
Your beautiful image on which you once prided yourself  
Is gone

You don't think  
Anyone could ever love something  
With hair so long  
And skin so thick

You don't think anyone  
Could ever love you   
As what you have become.  
You certainly can't

Beauty and the Beast,   
Is what happened to you  
You were once beauty,  
Now you are beast

You were once a star  
Bright and attractive  
And now you are a moon-man  
Gray, dull, and inhuman

Monkeys  
Were one of the first animals  
To be sent to space  
History repeats itself


	6. Phantoms Swarming Overhead

i am just a man  
who was once just a boy  
surrounded by phantoms  
and encased in death  
  
i never look at them  
(not on purpose)  
but their dead eyes bore into my flesh  
drilling holes across my hide  
  
they used to be so loud  
voices scratching against my ears like a broken record  
but now i float  
and don't hear anything at all  
  
i am just a man  
with a tight grip on all the things i shouldn't do  
and immaterial hands  
clawing at my chest  
  
there is power underneath my skin  
that rots through my being from the inside out  
power that nobody understands  
myself least of all  
  
i am the lookout  
but sometimes i wonder  
am i looking out for something?  
or am i waiting for everything to cease?


	7. You Were Created By My Hands, Were You Not?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God.

humans break much too easily,  
she thinks as she watches a man bleed out in his lover's arms.  
they're fragile,   
she notes as a boy is crushed by the very things living inside of him.  
quickly damaged,  
as a man wakes up in the wrong body.  
humans are made of things too soft,  
is what crosses her mind as a child collapses in the rocks and dirt.  
what an inefficient design,  
she mutters as a woman lies until she can't figure out what's real and what she made up herself.  
unstable.  
a woman screams and everything goes up in flames, shattering.  
too unpredictable.  
a boy presses a hand to his bleeding head, swaying from the force of the knife that just grazed his temple, deep.  
i don't think i like them,  
is announced to a person in a horrific shirt printed in palm trees.  
you, in particular.


	8. Reprise (Fifth Painting)

he disappeared in a flash of blue

leaving everything behind

his clothes, his plate, his books

his family

he disappeared,

and then vanished twice again

tangling himself in the tablecloth the world is set on

years passed

without a sign of him

it's like he never even was here in the first place

more than a decade later

he reappears in blue

the only cold color in a planet of burning

oranges, yellows, and reds


	9. V

if you gathered up your strength  
coiled in your chest, right here  
would you go to someplace different?  
or would you simply disappear?

if you bottled up your feelings  
filled the glass, screwed on the cap  
would you crack and slowly shatter?  
or would you die of thirst and dread?

if you dug yourself a hole  
the deepest one, into the ground  
would you bury yourself in it?  
or hide the bodies that you found?

if you clenched your fists together  
mathematics in your head  
would you end up somehow changing?  
or would you stay and die instead?

if you survived instead of living  
eating cockroaches and slugs  
would you choke on your own vomit?  
or would you even choke at all?

if you jumped into the deep end  
water closing overhead  
would you drown in the pool water?  
or would there be no pool instead?


	10. living doll, girl is gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *slams fist on table* DOLORES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> real girl dolores? real girl dolores.

you are a living doll  
a piece of plastic trapped inside her own mind  
without any way out  
you slam yourself against your cage  
over and over and over again  
but it never budges  
and you never escape

you are a mannequin  
with painted eyes and lips and a smile slapped onto your smooth face  
and a ripped blouse shrugged onto your sleek shoulders  
the silky fabric nearly falling off  
you think you used to have a hat  
a long while ago  
now you only have a skull  
and really, you don't even have that

you are what was once a girl  
with a beating heart and breathing lungs  
a missing arm  
and scars crisscrossing her skin where she has fallen again and again  
the girl is now gone  
and what is left of her is all compressed into you  
a figurine with a blank look on its face and a lack of words to say this isn't who you're supposed to be  
  
you are dolores  
(you used to be her)  
and at the very same time  
you are nothing at all

and you can't get out


	11. naming game (lack of such)

you are the fifth one  
and you don't have a name  
  
your mind is sharp,  
chiseled to perfection  
or what perfection should be  
  
your hands are smart  
knowing what to do  
and just the right way to do it  
  
and you?  
you are shaded blue  
like you're being viewed through a tinted shard of glass  
  
but you don't have a name  
you were born without one  
and never given one to take as yours  
  
you are a boy without a name  
and when you are offered one along with the others  
you are the only one who declines


	12. hello, goodbye

hello, hello  
  
it's cold tonight  
you find that you don't exactly care  
  
you wave your hand twice  
to the people watching  
you know they think little of you  
comparing you to the dust under their feet  
  
the skirt on your hips  
swishes against your legs as you move  
and walk away to find  
what makes everybody think like that  
  
your brother crosses his arms  
and frowning,  
tells you to turn back  
but you don't listen  
  
you're on your very own  
yellow brick road  
and the wizard of oz  
awaits you  
  
it's a flurry  
a mess of colors mixing together in your brain  
and like paints tend to do,  
they leave oily smears of muddy brown behind  
  
you shake yourself awake  
and press your hands to the damp ground  
pushing yourself up from the alleyway  
you just spent the night in  
  
throwing a smirk to the ghostly figure  
over your shoulder  
you walk out into the street  
whistling a tune that doesn't quite make happy  
  
it's cold this morning  
hopefully your next high stops you from shivering  
  
goodbye, goodbye


	13. bliss

you slide the headphones over your ears  
and everything except  
the pounding beat and heavy melody  
falls silent  
  
bliss  
  
you do not hear  
the shouting  
the gunshots  
the chandelier falling from the heavens  
or the warnings  
  
you hear a melody  
that drowns out the screams  
of the dead  
along with your thoughts  
  
and you listen along  
until it's far too late  
to open your ears  
to the world around  
  
to the world  
that will consume you  
and everything  
alongside


	14. dear god, you're utterly abhorrent, aren't you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

unlike your brother  
you feel like you started out  
with a "goodbye"  
and never moved past that  
  
you were born wrong  
with something unseen crawling beneath your very flesh  
something unspoken  
and monstrous  
  
they called you the horror  
and what are you  
if not for a repugnant creature  
not even deserving of a name?  
  
you often stay awake at night  
aware of the disgusting things infesting you  
hands rested on your stomach  
trying to contain what you know you can't  
  
you fear  
that if you use them enough  
they will slither up to your throat  
and suffocate you from the inside out  
  
crawling out of your mouth  
and spilling across the floor  
and staining your clothing with their dampness  
and leaving nothing behind  
  
you lie awake in bed  
and think about  
how you know you are nothing  
but a goodbye  
  
and you won't live   
long enough  
to see   
if that can change  
  
god, you think to yourself.  
i'm so disgusting.

**Author's Note:**

> Some of these are also posted in my other poem collection, which is all of my poems, not just tua-related ones.
> 
> I know none of the formatting is consistent, sorry about that. Hope you enjoyed it! (At least a little bit.)


End file.
